


Bon Soir Paris Bonjour L' Amour

by Liviania



Category: Crimson Peak (2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 23:36:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5474750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liviania/pseuds/Liviania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They are almost out of money, but Thomas wants to give his wife one last thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bon Soir Paris Bonjour L' Amour

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eyebrowofdoom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyebrowofdoom/gifts).



> The title means "Good evening, Paris; Good day, love" and is from an old song.

"Here we are," Thomas said, walking around the hired carriage to open her door and help Lucille step down.  "We couldn't leave Paris without coming here."

"We aren't leaving Paris for awhile yet," Lucille replied, confused.  They had to leave a deposit for their rent, and they couldn't leave without its return.  They had little enough money to spare, because the clay harvest seemed smaller every year.  It was becoming rather too hard to dig deep enough.  The first few years after their parents' deaths hadn't been too hard, but much of that was Lucille being too new to her responsibilities to manage the money wisely.  It wasn't her fault, however.  She didn't imagine her parents had done much better.  If they had, their home would have a solid foundation.

"Yes, but we had to come here now if your dress is to be done before we leave."  He gestured toward the storefront, drawing an end to her woolgathering as she read the sign.

"The House of Worth?" Lucille asked, faintly pursing her lips.  She wanted to pretend to be happy for Thomas, but ... He did know it worried her, the many debts they had to dodge.

"Yes," he replied firmly.  "I want to see you in red, yards of it."  He leaned in, far too close for propriety, even if she was his wife.  "I want to take it off you, a thousand small, delicate buttons."

Her frown settled back into a more serene expression.  She took his elbow and turned him toward the entrance, tucking her arm firmly into his.  "What a wonderful idea," she said as they walked into the most famous salon in Paris.

* * *

Lucille looked over the five mannequins displaying gowns while she waited for her consultation.  Two she dismissed immediately, evidence of silly trends that would be over soon.  She was particularly drawn to one with an exquisitely structured bodice, but taking a closer look would put her right into a crowd of gossiping women.  She did it anyway, for what did she have to fear from gossip here?

"Poor girl," she heard them muttering.

"Rich as Zeus, but almost older than Croesus."

She kept listening as she looked, fingers sliding along yellow velvet as words slid into her ear.  Their words were pitying, but Lucille heard the gleeful viciousness that underlined them.  It was a tone she knew as well as her heartbeat.  These women clearly weren't as rich as they one they gossiped about, but they could feel superior to her because they had husbands.  This woman was destined to be a spinster, so far past her debutante years and with a personality too persnickety to be borne.  And though they never quite said it, Lucille suspected that not even the generous would refer to the woman as handsome.  There had to be something keeping the treasure hunters at bay.

How sad, a wealthy single woman that couldn't even attract a fortune hunter or two.

"London," she whispered, as the women walked away.  Her hand landed on a far more suitable velvet, a deep teal that shimmered intriguingly beneath the light.

* * *

She introduced herself to those women later, when they happened to be in the shop again when she went for one of her fittings.  They stood to the side, all waiting for their appointments, while the workers busied themselves with other customers.  Lucille told them about her brother, the baronet, buying her a dress. She turned her hand, oh so carefully, to hide the ruby winking upon it.

The gossiping group were happy to meet a fellow Englishwoman in Paris - a titled one! - and even more happy to bring her into their circle of gossip, let her know all of the happenings in London she'd fallen behind on out there in Allerdale Hall.  She knew that their eagerness was not for her, but her brother.  So young, but already come into his inheritance.  A true catch.  As if he weren't taken already.  

She had been the one to tell them about her brother, to call him that and not her husband, but that did not mean she could not hold it against them.

Their gossip was all the things they'd talked about before, but they took certain relish in telling old things to a new audience.  So innocently uninformed, they thought her.  So grand, they thought themselves.  Imagine that, all these rich businessman's wives hobnobbing with aristocracy.  Truly a new world.

But still a world where certain shortcomings could even overcome the lure of money.  Lucille, unlike those chattering ninnies, knew how to make a catch.

* * *

She stood there in her new red dress, while a few assistants bustled around her to make the final touches.  Over the course of several fittings, it had truly come together.  It felt almost like a new body.  She could feel the frilled collar around her neck and the lace spilling over her wrists.  The silk was warm and heavy.  It did not breathe, one might say.  It held her spine straight and shoulders back.  Her corset enforced her posture, of course, but something about this dress made her more aware of it.

Thomas looked on, a pleasingly awestruck look on his face.

"Thomas," she said, relishing the intimacy of his name.  She made a slow twirl, conscious of a pin at her hip digging its way deeper into her skin with every degree of her spin.  The folds of fabric that comprised the skirt held their positions, not losing their carefully crafted shape.  Yards of fabric.  Buttons in the front, although not thousands of that.  "What a wedding present."

"It fits beautifully, although that's only to be expected from the House of Worth.  We shall have to find somewhere to go worthy of that dress."

"I think we should go to London," she replied.

Her husband looked surprised, for they'd intended to stay away from England and anyone who might know them.

A smile bloomed on her face, tight and proud.  She had so many plans.  So much to tell her brother.  She'd discovered how to save him again.

She spoke in an arch tone that she knew he liked, one that let him know he was in on her secrets, that he could laugh with her.

"It is time for society to celebrate your marriage."  

* * *

They stood in front of a manor smaller than Allerdale Hall, but unsurprisingly in far better condition.  The street lamps cast a steady light over the street, a soft invitation that Lucille sneered at.  This event was being hosted by one of the women Lucille had met in Paris, who had offered her an invitation before they parted.

"You remember what she looks like?" Lucille asked.

"Of course.  I'm ready to do this," Thomas said.  "Don't doubt my commitment."  He tested his smile at her, winsome and charming.  She supposed that she had one thing to thank her parents for.  Without them, someone else might have discovered Thomas's charms before she took them for her own.  As it was, however ...

"I don't," she said, lightly touching his hand.  "We both understand what's at sake.  I dislike it myself, dangling you before another woman.  You're mine."

"And you're mine," he replied, returning her touch.  As he caressed her hand, they both became aware all over again of the ruby that lay heavy on her hand.

She slipped it off, and held it out to him.  "We need a lure of our own."

He took it.  "It will be yours again soon."

"It is still mine, as you are still mine," she replied sharply.

"I only meant -"

"Do not fret dear, I have resigned myself to loaning my things.  She will pay for borrowing them anyway, even if she does have my permission."  She smiled in satisfaction, already imagining the wonderful conclusion of her plan; that is, taking back her property and destroying the woman who dared to touch it.

He nodded, and offered her his elbow.

They walked in arm-in-arm, the silver points dangling from her sleeves swaying with every step.

It was time to pay their debts.

**Author's Note:**

> This is set about twenty years before the movie and a few years after their parents are both dead. Kate Hawley, the costume designer, has talked about Lucille wearing Victorian fashion that is about twenty years out of date as compared to Edith's Edwardian fashion.


End file.
